Saving Laurel

29. Tomorrow

Wes Thompson

Ellie clambers into the backseat of Brett's car talking a mile a minute. As we shut the door, I lift my hand and wave to James, Savannah and Laurel as we all leave the park. James and Savannah wave back, Laurel doesn't but she watches me through the window.

I receive a punch to the shoulder that brings my attention back to the confines of Brett's car, Ellie's head poking between the front two seats.

"So what did you and Laurel talk about on your walk?" She teases.

Brett chuckles, navigating his car through the streets. I don't know if he realizes, our truce means nothing if Ellie finds out for herself.

"Nothing important." I tic, fussing with the dials in Brett's car that are exactly where they always are but it makes the thoughts quiet so I do it anyway.

"Mhmm." She sounds skeptical but I'm telling the truth.

We didn't talk about anything that important, nothing that stuck out anyway. And looking back, we spent more time silent than talking, hopefully enjoying each other's company. I enjoyed hers.

"Well I think she likes someone." She nudges me again. "And I think someone likes her back."

Brett's getting a kick out of the conversation, a giant grin on his face until our eyes meet and I smirk and he realizes that I too have something for Ellie to start digging around for answers on.

"Oh leave him alone." Brett mutters.

I catch Ellie rolling her eyes as she lets out a huff. "You're no fun." And then turns to me and mouths the word "grandpa".

Holding in the whistle that wants to come out of me, I laugh instead. Brett is definitely the senior of the group, constantly the voice of reason, the rule follower, handing out advice even when it's not asked for.

"So if Wes's love life is off limits can we talk about everyone's plans for tomorrow?" Ellie asks, slumping back into the back seat defeated like Brett has actually sucked all the joy and fun out of everything.

"I need someone to hang out with. James said he's got plans with some of his annoying jock friends so that's out of the question. Savannah's too busy working on her next collection. So it's gotta be one of you two or both."

"I can't." And as soon as my Sunday plans pop into my head I can't hold the whistle back anymore and it comes out, followed by the usual order of operations.

"Why not?" Ellie perks back up, not that I can see her but I can hear it in her voice and I know her well enough to visualize the playfulness that springs through her.

I've been trying not to think of Sunday to hard, keeping it to myself. I haven't even told Brett yet.

"Ryan, my mom's boyfriend," shoulder twitch, head jerk, inhale, nose, "is going to help me make a new bookcase for my room."

Brett glances at me but it's just a moment as he shifts his eyes back to the road. I know what he's thinking, that's not my routine. And it's not a subtle adjustment like today was, meeting all my friends at the park. Riding in the same car, with the same people, to the same park we've gone to countless of times. This was easy. Or as easy as things can be. But tomorrow, tomorrow is going to be the opposite.

"What happened to your bookcase?" Ellie asks.

I happened.

Even though Brett and Ellie have always accepted and handled me with ease I still feel the need to keep it to myself. That my OCD has that much control.

And then my Tourette's tries to call me out on the fact that I'm lying and my head jerks to the side and I get stuck there for longer than necessary. When my muscles finally release me, a breath blows out of me.

"Started to lean." I supply quickly because I can feel the same tic gearing up.

It's a weird little variation that has happened before, so it's not new and maybe this is just some weird moment but I don't like that it wants to repeat. The repeating business gets messy for me, it's a sure way to have a tic blur the lines and become a compulsion. That stupid even numbers are safer than odd which means I'll be doing that particular tic more than once every time it decides to start up.

Like hitting myself. I can never just hit myself once. I might be able to prolong it for a minute but never completely stop it.

My head pulls to the side again and the twist and contraction of my neck muscles makes me grunt. I hate all my tics, the hitting one the most but just under that is my vocal tics for obvious reasons. Coprolalia sucks majority of the time. There was this one kid I met a few years ago and his most prominent tic was shouting "get out" in a pitch significantly higher than his normal speaking voice.

I'm usually pretty empathetic towards other people and their tics because ya know, I get it, I got them too, but that one was definitely annoying.

Ellie punches me in the shoulder again, it startles me slightly as I realize I've been completely zoned out, my mind racing off on its own tangents. Nice play ADHD.

"What?"

"Tell Brett he needs to ditch his family thing he's not allowed to bring friends to and hang out with me." She instructs.

I almost repeat myself, my mind trying to fill in blanks and catch up. Brett's mom is pretty chill, she'd probably be cool with it. His dad though, that guy's another story.

"I can't El." Brett insists.

"Seriously! I can't stay at my house. There's going to be like a thousand preteen girls there and I will lose my mind." She throws her hand back and groans.

"Maybe Laurel will hang out with you." Brett suggests and I laugh.

They both say "what" at the same time like an old married couple.

But I just shake my head, tic and then say "nothing".

Laurel's either going to learn to love our group of friends and all our quirks or she's not. And Ellie's probably the most efficient way to find out if Laurel has what it takes to stay.

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Ya'll are hooligans. But especially Rensk3N  and @CayteHTSVRYN <- your username is a straight up bitch to spell.